


Should Someone Come In Between

by Culumacilinte



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-30
Updated: 2008-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Culumacilinte/pseuds/Culumacilinte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Tyler kisses Layla Dylan</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should Someone Come In Between

Sam Tyler kisses Layla Dylan. Just for a moment, lips touch, and then Sam backs off, looking down, away, biting his lip.

‘Sorry,’ he mutters. ‘I shouldn’t have done- I’m sorry, you- no, sorry, my fault. You can… leave. If you want to.’

She watches him with sharp eyes as he retreats to the chair on the other side of the flat, but doesn’t speak until he’s almost there, almost sunk back with the shabby pillow and half-drunk glass of wine. ‘Sam,’ she says. ‘I don’t mind.’

And Sam stops.

Sam Tyler kisses Layla Dylan, and this time, he doesn’t pull away. Springs complain as he seats himself hesitantly on the edge of the bed, too far away to touch, and he tilts his head to find out more of her mouth. She smiles a little into the kiss, thinking that Sam tries too hard to play the gentleman, and tilts her head too.

When their tongues meet, they’re soft and warm and tasting of wine, and Sam inches forward slightly on the bed, so that the side of his thigh bumps into her knee. Layla’s tongue strokes soft across his, coaxing him further, further, and Sam only needs a little encouragement until he brings his hand up to cup the side of her face. His thumb draws the arc of her cheekbone, the curl of her ear, and he sighs into her mouth.

Her hands find his, to pull him properly onto the bed with her, and Sam and Layla both laugh a little, nervously, when it groans underneath them.

‘You sure this thing’ll hold up?’ She teases, and Sam returns with a smirk, and a jerk of his head towards the floor.

‘You rather do it on the carpet?’

The carpet is rank and falling apart, and neither of them particularly wants to do anything on it, so Layla shakes her head, and Sam smiles again. The smile is warm like the sunlight filtering through the curtains, and Layla finds that it makes for a good excuse to kiss him again.

Sam Tyler kisses Layla Dylan, once against her mouth, and many more times down the concavity of her neck, his tongue tracing quick-flickers against the skin, and then her collarbone, through the thin cotton of her shirt. Her breast is warm, and fills his hand, and she makes a soft noise in the back of her throat when he squeezes. His fingers trace the soft curve of it, the outside where gravity presses it against her rib cage, and she laughs and pulls off her shirt, and asks if he’s going to take all day.

Sam pushes himself up on his arms and looks at her in a thoroughly unimpressed fashion. ‘You in some kind of a hurry?’ He asks, and defies her to say yes.

She doesn’t.

She’s soft and warm and feminine under his hands, and Sam traces the lines of her bra with his fingers before sliding behind to unhook it, threading it over her arms. Again, he cups a breast, feeling the weight of it, and he wants to taste so he does; nuzzles against the flatness of her sternum, dragging nose and lips over the skin before he finds a nipple and sucks it into his mouth.

After a moment, Layla gently pushes him back. He looks dazed, but she lifts a wry eyebrow and nods at Sam’s chest, clothed still in striped polyester, and Sam has to admit she has a point. Bare skin is much nicer than bad seventies fashions, and it’s not long before her mouth is marking its own trails of wetness and fading teeth marks across his chest.

Sam Tyler kisses Layla Dylan, and makes a sound a little bit like amazement when his hand finds the soft, wet heat between her legs. Layla moans into his mouth, and Sam licks up the sound, letting it fuel and fill him. She’s not shaven, and the hair that brushes against his hand is crisp and curling as Sam slips two easy fingers into her. Her breath catches, and her thighs part around his hand, inviting more.

‘Sam,’ she breathes, and he can see desperation in her eyes that’s at odds with the slow afternoon warmth of his flat. He knows what it’s about- Deepak and Ravi and her flat, all her things destroyed in the blast of homemade explosives- but he doesn’t want to think about that now, doesn’t want her to think about it. He wants to make her feel good.

So he hushes her- ‘Shh,’ leans in to kiss her again and again until she melts under his touch, and laughs when a look of smug pleasure creeps onto his face.

Her long hair falls over her shoulders, her back and breasts as she sinks down on top of him, and Sam is captivated. Layla’s thighs are strong, long strips of lean muscle under the skin, downy with soft hair, and he watches them, watches the place where he and her meet, where he can see himself sinking into her again and again, as she lifts herself up, rocking in time to the little noises he makes.

It’s good; slow and lazy as the dusty sunlight of Sam’s flat and the taste of wine in their mouths. Orgasm creeps up on them both like a sudden wave; first Layla, shuddering with tiny gasps above Sam, and then Sam himself, his eyes squeezed shut and body tense as a wire, before he melts back against the bed. His low, throaty moan reverberates up through her hands on his chest, and Layla shivers pleasantly.

She pulls away after both their bodies have calmed enough to allow it, and there’s a moment of awkwardness, insecurity. That this wasn’t what they intended, and perhaps now, afterwards, they realise they hadn’t intended it for a reason. But Sam is lazy with warmth, with the pleasure of orgasm heavy in his veins, and he gives Layla a tiny quirk of the lips, a faint invitation for her to join him again.

It’s only a moment more before she does, and she closes her eyes as she rests one hand over his chest, fingers curled loose and effortless.

Sam Tyler kisses Maya Roy, and doesn’t even notice it’s someone else he’s kissing entirely.

Layla notices, but she’s kissing someone else too, so it’s alright.


End file.
